


Carousel

by MeteoraWrites



Category: Fear the Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mental Institution, Alternate Universe - No Zombies, Borderline Personality Disorder, Depression, Enemies to Friends, M/M, Manic-Depression, Mental Health Issues, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 18:05:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13195641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeteoraWrites/pseuds/MeteoraWrites
Summary: In a world where the zombie apocalypse never happened, Nick has a breakdown after Gloria OD's. When he refuses to speak to anyone at rehab he's sent to a mental institution in the hopes of getting the help he needs.Troy's father died suddenly, causing Troy to have a major breakdown and Jake to have him committed.Neither one of them wants to be there, but maybe being committed is for the best after all?~~~~~MIGHT get a second chapter eventually





	Carousel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reisar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reisar/gifts).



> So the lovely Reisar made a request for a darker AU where the boys meet in a mental institution. I freaking love no-zombie AU Trick. I hope you all do to!  
> Also, I got a little inspiration from the song Carousel by Linkin Park. The first half of the song makes me think of Gloria, and the second half is definitely Nick. I'll have the song at the end of the story so you can see for yourself.

Nick stuffed his hands into his pockets as he slowly walked down the long hallways that led to group therapy. The doctors had decided when he was admitted the night before that he needed to talk about what happened, and since he wouldn't open up in one-on-one therapy at rehab, they thought group therapy was worth a try here.

Manic-depressive with self-destructive tendencies and suicidal ideation.

The diagnosis didn't surprise him, but what they said after about the family history of suicide, that had. He'd always suspected his dad killed himself. But actually hearing that suspicion confirmed aloud was something he apparently wasn't ready for as it made him shut down further.

The truth of Nick's situation was, he didn't want to talk about what he'd been through. He didn't want to think about it either. He would rather go shoot up and follow Glo if he was lucky (or unlucky) enough.  

Even if he did talk, and get 'better', it would all be a bunch of bullshit. He'd get out, things would still be the same. Glo would still be gone, his mom would still guilt him about everything, and his perfect little sister would look at him with the same disdain as always, and he'd still be the lost boy trying to find his way in a world he wasn’t made for.

So, he didn’t talk. And they told him he didn't have to now, but he would eventually.

As he walked into the brightly lit room, he saw a few other patients milling about. A few in wood and vinyl arm chairs that sat in a circle. The others stood about and looked out the windows, sat on the floor with books, drew on the whiteboard with a dry erase marker. One girl even had wireless headphones and what looked like an iPod as they sat curled up in the corner watching everyone else by the girl who was drawing.

Nick took a seat by a guy who looked about his age, maybe a few years old. He had slightly curly light brown hairs and a slim build under his white t-shirt and baggy sweat pants. His head was tilted down as he read a book. When Nick tilted his own head, he could see it was a science text on biology. A college level book at that.

With a sigh he slouched in his seat and pulled his hood up over his head before stuffing his hands in the front pocket of his hoodie.  A few minutes later the doctor leading the session came in and everyone got seated.

"Alright, who would like to get the ball rolling today?" The doctor, a middle aged brunette woman with glasses and a ponytail, asked, clicking her pen and getting ready to take notes.

The man who had been reading beside Nick snorted and closed his book loudly before dropping it on the floor at his feet with a resounding thud.

"Don't be rude, Troy." The doctor chided gently, giving him a tired look.

The guy, Troy, just crossed his arms over his chest and slouched back in his seat with his legs spread wide in a similar pose to Nick's. When he remained silent the doctor asked again and the girl who'd been listening to music earlier raised a hand before starting to speak softly.

Nick half listened to the other patients as they talked about their feelings and problems. He wasn't sure how much time passed, but eventually the doctor asked Troy how he was doing today, and the man laughed.

"What about the new guy, he doesn't have to talk? You always make the new ones talk first." Troy said, giving Nick a look of distrust.

"Nick went through a recent trauma and has been selective about speaking. He's excused from talking for now if he doesn't want to. Now, would you care to tell us how you're doing?" The doctor asked, scribbling away at her notepad.

"You know me, doc. Still angry at my brother and sick of being here." He said easily as he leaned forward to pick up his discarded book from the floor.

"Have you talked to Jake since he came to see you last week?" One of the other patients asked. Her name was Laura, and she was the one who had been drawing flowers on the whiteboard when Nick walked in.

Troy snorted a laugh at the question. "He called last night. Tried to talk me into selling my share of the ranch again. I told him to go to hell. I don't care what he wants, I intend to go back and run the place when I get out of here." He said the last part resolutely.

"Are you sure that's wise, Troy? You spent the majority of your time there being turned into a soldier for your father's paranoid delusions. Going back might not be wise for your recovery." The doctor suggested, never pausing in her note taking.

"Living and working on that ranch is the only life I know, doc. I don't even have a high school diploma. No way I'd be able to get any kind of decent job without one. And with this god damned mental disorder I've been stamped with no way I could join the army or do anything else I have any interest in. There's nothing else for me." Troy argued.

"Alright, Troy, we'll discuss this further in our private session tomorrow. I think this has been enough for today. Why don't you all go about your free time now and we'll meet back here in two days." The doctor said as she closed her notebook and moved to stand.

When Nick moved to stand as well, Troy bumped shoulders with him unintentionally. They traded looks, but neither said anything as they moved to leave the room.  

Over the next few day's Nick ran into Troy a few times outside of group therapy, but the other man ignored him. He sort of made friends with Laura (she kept drawing him flowers and taping them to the wall of his room when he was in there) and Maggie (the girl with the headphones).  

Both girls would sit with him, and rather than try to make him talk, they talked to each other or just sat silently and did their own thing. It actually helped him feel better than any medication or therapy session had so far.

At breakfast on the fifth day into his hospitalization, Maggie put her headphones on Nick's ears when he was zoned out and put her iPod in his hands. She told him he looked like he needed it more than she did at the moment, and that she'd just get it back before one of them was discharged. The smile she gave him when he thanked her was the first he'd seen from her the whole 5 days he'd known her.

When Nick walked into group therapy with the headphones around his neck, Troy perked up from his scribbling in a notebook with a red crayon to give him a questioning look. "You like music, Nicky?"

Nick just blinked owlishly at him and gave a shrug before taking his seat beside Troy.

"If you don't like music, why do you have Maggie's headphones?" Troy asked, leaning forward to look at Nick around the edge of his hood.

"She said I looked like I needed them." Nick said in a low voice. He had the feeling that Troy wouldn't leave him alone if he didn't answer.

"He speaks! It's a god damn miracle! What's next, you gonna walk on water for us?" Troy said loudly with a grin, looking around the room at the other disinterested patients. The only one that seemed to be paying attention was Laura, who looked up from her scribbling on the whiteboard to smile at Nick from across the room.

Nick just shook his head and slouched down in his seat to wait for everyone else to arrive and the session to start.

Once everyone was seated the doctor looked to Nick first. "Nick, it's your third session with the group. I think it's time you share a little." She said, tone gentle and reassuring.

Nick cleared his throat and shifted around in his seat uncomfortably. He knew he'd have to speak eventually, and he fucking hated it. "I'm here because I'm a junkie and I had a breakdown when my girlfriend died of an overdose when we were both using about two weeks ago." He said, eyes locked on a scratch on the tile floor before him.

A few people gasped at Nick's words. Whether from his content of the statement or the fact that he was actually speaking was anyone's guess.

"And how have you been feeling since you got here?" The doctor asked, trying to coax him to say more.

"Well, I feel like shit from detoxing. But the carousel keeps turning, can't get off till it stops." Nick said, trying to avoid his actual feelings.

"Anything else?" She asked, taking notes rapidly.

Nick heaved a sigh and let his head fall back against his chair as he slouched down further. "I feel lost." He found himself admitted, hating how gravely his voice was from lack of use. "I don't know what people expect me to do here."

"Well, Nick, we expect nothing. What we hope is that you'll open up and let us help you learn to cope with everything you've been through as well as learn to manage your condition." The doctor said, tone still calm and assuring.

A somewhat manic chuckle escaped Nick's lips at that. "Yeah, because learning to handle being manic-depressive on top of being a junkie is so easy."

"No one ever said mental health was an easy thing to learn to maintain, Nick. It's a battle. Every day. That's why we're all here. To fight that battle together and help you all find the strength to keep fighting on your own when you leave this place."

This time it was Troy that chuckled, drawing Nick's gaze away from the doctor. "You should make that info a motivational poster."

"Or one of those self-help tapes that people buy at gas stations." Nick suggested as he pulled his hood down to look at Troy, earning a grin and another laugh from the other man.

"I think we can be friends now." Troy said, still smiling at Nick.

The doctor cleared her throat as she continued to take notes. "Alright, let's move on. Who'd like to speak share next?"

Another patient started talking and Nick glanced at them briefly before glancing back to Troy, who was still smiling at him before opening his notebook back up and starting to write again with his red crayon.

After therapy was over Troy grabbed Nick's arm and pulled him aside to talk as the others exited the room and made their way to do other things. "I meant what I said about us being friends." He said with a broad smile as he stuffed his notebook and crayon into the pocket of his black hoodie.

Nick felt the corner of his mouth quirk into a small smile of his own. He didn't respond, just turned on his heel and started walking towards the art room. Laura was going to make paper roses today and he liked to watch her work.

"Aw, come on. Don't be like that, Nicky." Troy said as he followed the younger man down the hallway. "I'll make you a deal. You talk to me, and I'll help you get out of here." He offered, now walking alongside Nick down the long hallway.

Nick snorted a laugh at that and kept walking.

"I'm serious." Troy said, placing a hand on Nicks shoulder and making him stop to face him.

"Look, Troy, thanks for the offer, but I've got it under control. I don't need help." Nick said with a tired sigh.  

"Alright, then, just talk to me? I'm not gonna psycho analyze you like the rest. You and me, I think we got a lot in common." He said as he let go of Nicks shoulder and gave him and almost sheepish look.  

Nick rolled his eyes at that. "What makes you so sure of that?"

"We're both the black sheep of the family. We both got put here for having breakdowns. And I've got a feeling we're both not looking forward to what's waiting for us when we get out of here." Troy wagered, taking a step into Nick's personal space.

Taking a moment to consider Troy's words, Nick shrugged and went to put Maggie's headphones over his ears. "Alright. I'm gonna watch Laura make flowers. You coming?" He asked before turning away to continue on to the art room.

Troy grinned and followed after him without hesitation.

A month later Troy was the first one to be released. He came back every other day to visit Nick and a few weeks later when the younger man was about to be released, Troy invited him to live on the ranch, and Nick said yes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to [Check out my Tumblr](https://meteora-writes.tumblr.com) for story update schedules and other info <3


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